


Round Two

by attaccabottoni



Series: Love’s not a competition but I’m winning [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: I blame Nero's horny smelling perfume for how long this ended up being, M/M, Multi, Yet another serving of this Vergil sandwich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attaccabottoni/pseuds/attaccabottoni
Summary: Nero hoped he wouldn’t end up howling in savage delight sometime before the night ends. Dante would never let him hear the end of it.
Relationships: Dante/Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Love’s not a competition but I’m winning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826317
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Round Two

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [these](https://twitter.com/iketsuyang/status/1228363429347389441) [fanarts](https://twitter.com/iketsuyang/status/1281544615863054338) on Twitter.
> 
> I made this into a separate fic instead of a second chapter of the previous one, because the change in POV into Nero’s also changed its tone, even if it’s essentially a continuation.

If Nero had the time to think any of this through, were Vergil to say Dante’s name instead of his while they were both inside him, his unbridled jealousy would put him off the idea of competing with Dante.

In the end, neither of their names fell from Vergil’s lips, probably because they both had him busy gasping to make his voice work. Not even Vergil ripping up the bed sheets from writhing could cover his surprised and breathless moan. That was what tipped Nero over the edge to start pounding away with neither a thought nor rhythm. He clearly heard Dante laughing at him, but it sure as hell hadn’t made him stop.

There were still white sparks at the edges of his vision from coming so hard. Nero tried not to pant too harshly, with his mouth by Vergil’s ear. His father must have sensed how unmoored he felt, because his hands came up to stroke Nero’s arms, calming him. Like he was silently apologizing for his hard grip earlier, when he held on while they were fucking him within an inch of his life. Vergil’s light touch felt both soothing and stimulating, the recognition of a shared feeling of pain and pleasure.

When he came to this bed, he had no idea that it was going to be this intense. Nero hoped he wouldn’t end up howling in savage delight sometime before the night ends. Dante would never let him hear the end of it.

They both watched Dante as they caught their breath. He didn’t know how his uncle could keep grinning like that when Nero almost lost his mind. But he did wonder how sensitive Vergil was feeling, and how soon would it be okay to palm the soft skin on his chest again.

It wasn’t about the mechanics of it, since Vergil’s body could certainly handle rough treatment. It was Nero’s own heart that had him apprehensive in taking what was within his reach. He didn’t want this to be venting all his frustrations and desires on his father on some one-off night of debauchery. Nero wanted it to mean something, not hollowly using each other out of twisted malevolence.

Dante knew his brother without Vergil having to say a word. Nero didn’t have that kind of connection with him. Vergil had such muscle control that, what Nero could see of his face from sitting behind him, trying to read him was akin to searching for answers from unmoving stone. All he had to go by were the shifts in Vergil’s breathing. Every point of contact between their bodies had Nero aching to hold him tight, but he restrained himself to words instead.

“Father…”

Vergil slid his fingers across his forearm to link them with Nero’s right hand, bringing it up to place a light kiss on Nero’s palm. Such a gesture felt like fond affection, or some sort of entreaty, both of which he was unused to receiving from his father that Nero could hardly decipher what it meant.

At this lack of a verbal response, Nero pressed his lips together before giving voice to the unease he could no longer keep to himself. “Was it good for you?”

Dante looked up from nuzzling Vergil’s bent knee. “Hey, your son is asking you a question. You better answer him.”

He wondered if Vergil could feel Nero’s thunderous heartbeat against his back. Having to wait for his father to say something brought back how this all felt for him at the start. Vergil commanded attention without even trying. Before, Nero could’ve been content with only looking, but then he started studying Vergil. From there, his admiration turned into adoration, and by the time he knew what his feelings have grown to become, the wrenching agony in his chest felt like his world was ending. Nero grew up being used to trying not to want anything that could bring him happiness, but it didn’t make the thought of not being able to come close to touch Vergil hurt any less.

He has since learned to pick his battles, and now that he has this, he adamantly refused to give Vergil up without a fight.

Dante’s continued sallies drew him out of his musings. “It’s as if you want to let Nero worry about you all the time. When out of anything he could have taken up doing, what he wants is to take care of you.”

Vergil said something too faint for either of their enhanced hearing to catch.

“You’re going to have to be louder than that, brother.” Dante’s tone, tinged with barely hidden amusement, belied the predatory glint lurking in his eyes.

“I never asked him to do such a thing,” Vergil said tersely, his voice tight.

“Whatever you say.”

“Shut up. You’re so annoying.”

“You talk big for someone between two dangerous men who can tear you apart.”

“Not if I do it to you first.”

“You’re welcome to try anytime, that is, as long as you can keep taking the two of us up your ass.”

He never thought his sloppy looking uncle could be such a sadist trash bastard. Not that Nero had any leg to stand on. Every keening sound that Vergil made got him going, so much that recalling the new additions to his internal catalogue of Vergil’s sexy vocalizations had him instantly becoming hard.

Whatever Dante found in Vergil’s face made him smile brightly. “You haven’t even answered Nero’s question, you know. So cold when he asked you nicely, too. Are you afraid your son will take advantage once he figures out how to please you? Or is it because we need to warm you up some more?”

Their exchanges often gave the impression like they were having eight different conversations at once, all of them barely comprehensible to Nero since no one bothered to tell him the nuances.

The heat from Vergil’s back drew away as his father leaned challengingly in Dante’s direction. “If you think I am unaware that your line of questioning is leading me to hand you reasons to gloat, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Oh, there’s never been any doubt that this party hasn’t seen the end, uh, coming.”

Vergil made a noise of disgust. “Would you cease speaking—”

Nero judged that he has done enough waiting, pulling Vergil’s chin at the right angle to devour the end of his sentence. As he felt his father relax and arch his back to deepen the kiss, his Devil Bringer’s two other hands held Vergil by the waist to slightly lift him above his lap. His remaining hand angled his dick to thrust inside Vergil once more, his hungry mouth taking in the emerging throaty cry.

Dante could play games with Vergil all he wanted, if that was their familiar way of drawing out enjoyment from this. Nero hasn’t been anything but unsure around Vergil. The only thing he knew with any certainty was what he wanted from his father, and he wasn’t about to let anyone, least of all either of the men before him, to get in his way.

The pleased hum emerging from under Dante’s breath reminded Nero to release Vergil from the kiss while his greedy hands resumed exploring Vergil’s heaving chest.

“Do I gotta prepare you again?” Dante asked casually, when his grip on Vergil’s open thighs looked anything but.

“That depends on your skill,” Vergil snapped. Dante didn’t even bother to hide his victorious leer as he dipped forward for his kiss.

Nero could feel the inside of his head burning with the aim to bring Vergil to completion once more, his dick throbbing while staying still inside his father. Urged by the memory of the rolling of hips, the pressure and friction from shoving in together with a joined rhythm, he sunk his teeth on the side of Vergil’s neck while Dante was kissing him. Vergil gave a full-body shudder.

Dante drew back slightly just as Nero felt him press the tip of his dick in, his eyes intently boring into Vergil’s with the wordless twin communication Nero has seen them do. The stutter in his father’s measured breathing seemed to point towards the message being received.

“You’ve no reason to look so angry. Could it be that you just can’t stand how much this turns you on?”

In lieu of answering, Vergil growled. The guttural sound had Nero eagerly tracing the curve of Vergil’s reddened ear with his tongue.

“Don’t fret. For some reason, Nero wants to keep you. I’m just here to make sure you’re going to let him.”

Nero’s eyes widened as it dawned on him at that moment what Dante’s words of reassurance were really aimed to do. He was never in a competition with Dante. He was acting like all of them had already won. Vergil wanted this just as much as they do, and Dante was only waiting for Nero to realize it.

Dante locked gazes with him and smiled serenely, right before ramming his dick back in Vergil again.


End file.
